Little Red
by Flabbergasted Mess
Summary: Rachel doesn't want to to be forced into marriage. She's disgraced her family by just talking to the men. When she runs away, she meets another, but he's different. LeoxRachel
1. Chapter 1

**Sorry to anyone who's reading Hey There Delilah at the moment, I'm working on the next chapter, I promise! Anyway, I've been wanting to write this for a few months now, so here it is. **

"Mom, stop!" Rachel growled, "I'm a grown woman, I should be able to brush my own hair," she stated, grabbing the blue hairbrush from her mother. It wasn't much, just an oval shaped stick painted blue with bristles.

"Rachel, the prince is coming. Don't you want to look your best?" her mother asked, looking out of the castle, down to the market.

"No, not really. I wont love the man anyway, he's after my money. What we should do is-"

"Yes, yes I know. Have a piece of paper where you write the amount of money for a person. You've thought about that a trillion times. Just give him a chance," her mom ordered. Rachel sighed,

"Fine. Just let me brush my own hair," she proceeded to make downward movements on her air with the blue stick. Her mother left the room, leaving Rachel alone with a deep purple dress laying on her bed. It was a tight dress, so tight, that Rachel hardly knew how she could breathe in it. She looked at the yellow trim on it, outlining the shoulders and the end of the sleeves. Rachel made sure the tailor didn't do anything fancy to the dress, or any of her dresses, she only wanted them to cover her. She slipped the dress on, and her nimble fingers did the straps on the back of it, tightening and tying. Then, she took a deep breath in, and sat on her bed. Beside her feet was a pair of shoes, purple and yellow, matching her dress. The shoes fit her perfectly, so after she put them on, she stood up, and examined her hair. It was perfect he way it always was. One of her many servants hadn't knocked on her door yet, so she went to her painting easel and picked out paints, careful not to spill on her dress. She had picked a fiery rd, which matched her hair, and a green, making sure it was the one that matched her eyes. Then, she started to paint a sloppy picture of herself, making her hair look like literal flames. Eyes were her favorite part of drawing and painting, they always were. So she got a stool and sat while she began to make the eyes more detailed. Suddenly, five fingers knocked on her door.

"Coming!" she stood up and opened the door. A tall young woman, with chocolate brown her to her shoulders stood before her. She was wearing a plaid dress, red and white, Rachel made a mental note to paint her in it, "hey Clara!" she said, and took her hand. Clara began to lead her down the halls.

"Rachel, you have paint on your dress," she said, pulling out a cloth for her to clean it with. Rachel took the napkin, and wiped the green. It smudged, but it was less visible than it was before.

"Thank you, Clara," they entered the throne room. Her mother and father were sitting in their thrones, and a young man stood before them. He had black hair and sea green eyes. His attire was a golden and blue suit, and blue pants. His cloths were heavily jeweled, and Rachel wanted to barf. She cleared her throat, and curtsied.

"Rachel Dare, pleased to meet you," as she went up, he took her hand softly and kissed it. Their eyes met, and she felt her face go a little red.

"Percy Jackson, of the realm of Poseidon, it is a pleasure to see you," she wrapped her fingers around, his,

"Poseidon?" she snorted, "like the myth? That's _so _cool," Percy smiled.

"We're surrounded by water, they were trying to be original," they both laughed, and then they walking out of the castle, into the courtyard. He picked her a rocked, she smelled, it wasn't very tasteful. Rachel smiled anyway,

"How old are you?" she asked him,

"Oh, well that's a rude question, isn't it?" he smirked,

"It is a simple question, one that many people take offence to," was all she said, Percy, looked at the sky,

"Seventeen, you?"

"Oh, well that's a rude question, isn't it?" she mocked, "sixteen, not that age matters. According to my mother anyway. And you'll just want my money, and no love and," she caught herself, "sorry, sorry, I just… that's how it always is,"

"I'll… I'm just going to… leave," he ran off to his carriage, leaving her standing there. She crossed her arms, and yelled after him,

"Tell me when the wedding is!" then she ran to her room to finish her painting. When it was done, she put it on a net of ropes handing from her ceiling that she had made. It helped the canvas to lay flat while it dried. A knock was heard on her door. She groaned, knowing who it was, but she opened it anyway.

"Mom," she said, trying to avoid her mothers glare. She stormed right in, Emily was her name.

"Rachel, you ruined everything! He was our last chance! First Frank, Jason, Luke, Travis and now Percy! How dare you!" she yelled at her.

"Mom I'm sorry!"

"No! I don't want to hear it! You've disgraced our family! You _will _marry Percy, whether you like it or not!" Emily screamed, then she left the room, leaving Rachel to her thoughts. She grabbed a cloak, it was another deep purple, then she looked out he window. It was dark, so she put the cloak on and jumped out of her window. Landing perfectly as she had so many times before, in the courtyard. Rachel ran and ran our of her courtyard, stopping in the marketplace.

She needed to shop.


	2. Chapter 2

**Two!**

Rachel grabbed two cloaks from the store-tender. One red, and one was black, but she was still wearing the purple one. It was pulled over her eyes, so no one would see it was her, the princess. Once she had gotten the cloaks, she went to the little wooden shop for weapons. When she was little, she remembered, her father giving her a bow, and being good. So she was set on getting another one. As she walked into the store, a bell ran, signaling someone new was entering the shop. The store-tender, slender middle aged man looked up from his books.

"Hello," he said, greeting her with a warm smile. Rachel didn't care, she turned to the bow hanging on the wall to her right. It had carvings of fire on it, depicting the burning of worlds. To her, fire was beautiful; it was a muse for some of her paintings. Her fingers traced the carvings, as she looked at the striking bow. Rachel took it off of the wall, and grabbed an arrow, positioned it on the bow, and pulled.

"I'll take it," she said, after deciding that the bow was perfect,

"Alright, fifty please," the man asked her, and she handed him the coins. Suddenly, screams were heard from the outside, and a firm knock was made on the door. It was kicked down. In stepped a soldier, dressed in fine purple armor,

"The princess is missing," he yelled, and smacked the mad who had sold her the bow, "where is she?" he screamed in his face. The man shook his head,

"I don't know!" he exclaimed, but the soldier only smacked him again, Rachel stepped in to help, but the man looked at her and shook his head. Signaling for her to go with his body language, the man looked the soldier directly in the eye, and spat at him. Rachel didn't know what happened after that, she ran out of the building into chaos. Soldiers were on horses, running about the market trying to find her, knocking on door and yelling at the market people. She hadn't seen anything like it before. Holding firmly to her cloaks and bow, along with the arrows, she ran across the street, and hid behind a kiosk. Suddenly, she felt a hot breath on her back, and before she could look to see who was behind her, something hard hit the back of her head and she passed out.

Rachel woke up in the woods, with a boy sitting next to her. Cloth was over her mouth, so she couldn't scream. The boy took it off though, and proceeded to try and calm her.

"I just saved your life!" he said, obviously very excited. He smiled a crazy smile, very crazy, it almost made him look like a drunk man on drugs. But it made Rachel smile to, only her smile faded quickly.

"Who are you? Why do you have me? Are you a palace guard?" she asked slowly backing away from him. They boy, who had curly hair, and a belt stuffed with building tool in it, looked at her curiously,

"No, no, I'm Leo Valdez. I was protecting you," as wave of sadness washed over his face, "from the guards… the monsters," Rachel looked at him quizzically, feeling the silk of her red cloak. She knew better than to ask those sorts of questions about sadness though, it wasn't her business.

"They weren't going to hurt me, were they?"

"They would have. They're searching for the princess; they can kill to find her. I… I know," he said, turning his face away from her sadly. Searching for her bow, which wasn't that far away, only propped up against a tree next to her, Rachel hung her cloaks on her bow and stood.

"Thank you for saving me, but I should go," Leo looked at her, his face saddened.

"No," he stood and lowered the bow, "stay,"


	3. Chapter 3

**First of all, I would like to apologize that I haven't updated in forever, I've been busy, and haven't had enough time to write. **

**Disclaimer- I do not own PJO. **

There was no possible way Rachel could go back to the palace without being noticed and punished. Guards were lined around the castle, had closed every shop, and Leo had told her that they were going to their nearby rival country, Jupiter. So, Rachel had to do what she could. Leo had managed to get cloth from the streets, allowing Rachel to sew her own maid's dress for herself, instead of her royal one. While Rachel made the dress, tearing off some of Leo's clothes he let her use for patches of sleeves, she had time to think. Plenty. Once, when Rachel was humming to herself, carefully tearing off the patches, Leo came across her mind. His curly hair made him look like an elf; his tanned skin hinted that he was not from Rachel's country. He smiled a lot, which made Rachel remember a woman. Very vaguely, she remembered a worker woman, a blacksmith. She had pretended to be a man, so she could do a man's work, later the guards punished her for her crime. A blacksmith was a man's job, and it was shameful for a woman to do it. Now, plenty of women were blacksmiths. When Rachel was little, she had to visit the blacksmith because her father's sword needed fixing, and the royal blacksmith wasn't fit for the job. The woman's hair was curly, like Leo's.

Then it hit her. Leo had been so sad whenever he mentioned the guard's cruelness. The woman's home had been burned to the ground, and she hadn't made it out. Leo did.

Rachel stopped ripping the cloth, and stood up from the ground. Leo was around the woods at the time of day, but most of the time he was out hunting, or making things. But every day, he would come when the sun was at it's highest to eat with Rachel. It was about that time. Then she heard the familiar sound of his footsteps approaching her. When he came into view, Rachel saw that he was darker than usual, and one of his suspenders had fallen. He still smiled his crazy smile, and held a squirrel in his right hand.

"Leo," she said, as he pulled the suspender up. The squirrel fell from his hand. "I'm sorry." Rachel told him, watching as he picked the squirrel back up.

"'Bout what?" Rachel sighed, not knowing where to go with it. But she had to apologize.

"About your mom." Leo's smiled faded, leaving everything silent for a while. He sat down, his back against a tree.

"How did you know?" was all he said.

"I figured it out," Both of them were silent for a while until Leo repositioned himself on the tree, looked at her, and asked,

"What's your name?" she hadn't told him yet, but he trusted her. Rachel didn't know how many people had her name, so she considered lying, but she was always taught to be honest.

"Rachel." She replied, He nodded,

"Name of the princess." Rachel didn't know how to reply. She could have went on with her day or told him the truth. She decided to put the truth on hold.

"Common name," Leo played with a fallen leaf, folding it neatly. He didn't seem convinced, but didn't say anything.

"Can I call you Rach?"

"Spell it," 

"R-a-c-h-e." Leo looked confused, but did it anyway. Remembering her language classes, Rachel shook her head.

"You realize that's German for revenge, right?" Leo smirked.

"Then I'll call you Revenge, princess,"


End file.
